


Three times Sam saves  Dean from the thoughts,  and One time Cas did.

by candyland1341



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean sees things in his head, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, but not, its like fluffy, sabriel if you squint, self hate, so like hard crusty fluff, suggestion of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2012-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-18 20:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candyland1341/pseuds/candyland1341
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On most nights, Dean was fine. He’d learned how to control the awful thoughts that haunted him, but sometimes they’d all just come flowing in at once. And because he didn’t want Sammy or Dad to see him so weak, he’d hide in the bathroom until he could compose himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three times Sam saves  Dean from the thoughts,  and One time Cas did.

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda got the Idea from Perks of being a Wallflower and Donnie Darko.
> 
> Also thanks to mah bestie Brenda for Beta-ing this.   
> Shes the best.

Three times Sam saves  
Dean from the thoughts,  
and One time Cas did.

1.

On most nights, Dean was fine. He’d learned how to control the awful thoughts that haunted him, but sometimes they’d all just come flowing in at once. And because he didn't want Sammy or Dad to see him so weak, he’d hide in the bathroom until he could compose himself. He was strong, he was tough…. He was 8. But, the only thing that would really ever give that away was his size, everything else? But if you could see the images that haunted him, and hear the way he spoke, well you’d think he was 25.  
The thoughts were bad that night, worse than they’d been in a while. He could see his mom floating on the ceiling, burning, and even when he closed his eyes, she was still there. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of the sinister image in his mind. Desperately, he smacked his head a few times to try and knock out the vivid picture. He started crying, trying to be quiet so he didn’t wake his sleeping family. A soft knock on the door startled Dean out of his thoughts, and as he listened, he realized that the noise was close enough to the ground that it had to be Sammy.  
“Dean?” His 4 year old voice was as soft as a whisper that a four year old could muster. Dean wiped his face and smacked his head a few more time, hard. She was still there though.  
“Yea, Sammy?” He pulled the door open to see a sleep ruffled boy, his long hair flopping in his eyes and sticking up all over the place. His eyes were wide, a worry in them no four year old should know. The younger boy walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat lid. Dean sighed pushing the door closed as he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, his hands shaking, eyes trying to look everywhere but at the ceiling.  
“What’s wrong, Dean?” Sam’s words were sudden.  
A sigh was all Dean answered with as he ran a hand through his short hair looking directly into Sam’s eyes.  
“I know you are sad, I see the same sadness in Daddy’s eyes sometimes too.” The words sounded foreign coming out of a child’s mouth. Sam shouldn't know sadness, not now, not ever.  
“I’m just thinking, bud.” He tried to smile, but the best he could manage was a twisted grimace. And he cursed himself in his head for that.  
“About mommy?” the words caught Dean off guard, and he had to brace himself on the cracked sink so he wouldn’t fall over.  
“What?” it came out a startled gasp.  
“Whenever I mention mommy to Dad, he gets the sad look and goes quiet. When I ask him why, he says he’s just thinking.” Sam looked down at his hands and fiddles his thumbs. “Am I bad, that I don’t think about her?” He looked at his brother, his eyes shining with unshed tears “I don’t know her, am I a bad kid?”  
“Sam! Don’t you ever think like that okay? You’re one of the goodest kids I know.” Sam and Dean squinted, puzzled.  
“goodest?” Sam looked at Dean.  
“Wellest?” Dean offered up.  
“Best” they said in unison, bursting into giggles. A smile spread across Sam’s lips.  
“She’s not there anymore, is she?” He whispered causing Dean to look up, and he was surprised to see that Sam was right.  
“How’d you…”  
“You whisper in your sleep.” Sam hopped off the toilet grabbing Deans hand and pulling him back to their shared bed while John was sound asleep in the one next to it.  
“Dean when you get to thinking, just grab my hand, okay? I’ll make it stop.”  
“Since when did you become the big brother?”  
“Since you taught me how.” Sam smiled as Dean pulled the sheets over them.  
“Dean?”  
“Yea?”  
“She would want you to be happy.”  
“Who said that?”  
“You did, to dad.”  
Dean smiled pulling his little brother in close to him who buried his face in Dean’s neck. Within a few minutes, Dean drifted off to sleep, not a nightmare in sight.

 

2.  
The thoughts remained a constant in his life. Always, they danced just in and out of his consciousness, never staying long enough to cause much damage. But today the thoughts and the images they brought up were strong and haunting.  
It was Sam’s 8th birthday when they hit without warning. John was out on a hunt and had left Dean to babysit the small child. He’d gone out to spend all the money John had left them for the week on things for Sammy. Dean knew this would be the last birthday they’d celebrate because Dad wanted to start training Sam and bringing him on hunts instead of leaving him locked in the car while Dean helped gank the monsters. With the rest of the meager money, Dean bought streamers and a sign that said happy birthday with each letter attached to the next by a string. He bought chips, hamburgers, and even a cake (because Sam didn't like pie. Yeah, Dean was willing to suffer for the little twerp). And then he bought Sam 3 plushies. An angel with golden wings and brown hair, a moose, and a golden retriever. He knew Sam would love them.  
The images hit when he was walking back to the motel causing him to stumble and skin up his hands and knees. Not even a cry of pain excepted the boys lips; John had made him too hard for that. But when he stood up, the image in front of him threatened a child-like scream to tear through his lips. It was his mom dressed in a white nightgown just staring at him, and then suddenly she was gone.The sound of his mother’s shrill wail and the sound of burning fire echoed through his mind. He dropped to the ground and covered his ears, tears streaming down his face. And then he felt big hands resting on his and the screams stopped.  
“Are you okay?” The man had a soft face, his hair sticking out as if he hadn't brushed it in days. t was long and flowing down almost to his shoulders, and his hazel eyes reminded him of Sams’.  
“Who are you?” Dean had stepped back now watching the other man behind this larger stranger.  
“Call him Moose” The other man spoke with a smile. “And I’m Gabriel. We have traveled here from the fuuuuuuuttttttuuuuurrrrrreee oooooh.” He wiggled his fingers at Dean.  
“Yeah... right, and I’m the lead singer of Led Zeppelin,” he mumbled.  
“It is true.” There was a third man standing there now and Dean froze in his tracks staring at him, memorized. “The Future part, I mean.”  
“He even likes you as a kid.” Moose smiled at the new blue eyed man.  
“What’s going on?” Dean knew he shouldn't be talking to these people, and he had to get back to Sam, but something seemed intriguing about them.  
“You guys didn't tell me there wouldn't be any pie at this st….” A fourth man came trailing out of the store and stopped mid sentence when he saw Dean.  
“It’s a vacation D… erh bro, enjoy it, stop worrying about the pie.” But Moose’s brother ignored him and crouched down in front of Dean.  
“You saw her, didn't you?” he muttered to the boy. His eyes were serious, but there was an underlying concern behind them. A slight nod from Dean was his only answer. The older man looked like he was remembering something.  
“When you go back to Sam, don’t tell him. It’ll cause… just don’t, okay?” Dean wasn't sure why he didn't trust this man at all, but he knew he would listen. He nodded, which he guessed was satisfactory answer to the man because he stood up and shoved Moose with a joking smile.  
“Let’s go to another point in time.. OH! Like the old west!” He smiled and suddenly Moose, him and Gabriel were all gone; the only one remaining was the man with the blue eyes who was staring at him.  
“How old are you?” He whispered at the cute man.  
“Thousands of millenniums.”  
“I’m 12.” He smiled, not even questioning it. He believed him. The man came and knelt down in front of Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
“Dean Winchester, you are a man worthy of the love of angels. Never forget that.” He placed a kiss on Dean’s forehead, healing his skinned knees and hands, and then he was gone.  
Dean could still feel the touch of his lips when he made it back to the motel. Not telling Sammy about the strange encounter and keeping his promise, he didn't tell Sam about the thoughts.

 

3.  
Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed with his face buried in his hands. Their dad was dead, and it was all his fault. He had died to save Dean.  
This time the thoughts were worse than ever, and he couldn't help but to think that he deserved to die. This wasn't fair. He couldn't live with the pain, the sadness, or the loneliness. It hurt too much. The images had doubled now, showing his mom’s death as well as his dads. He just kept hitting the side of his head with his fist, trying to get the thoughts out.  
“Get out, get out” He was sobbing now. He didn't care if it made him look weak. He was a weak, worthless man who couldn't even protect his own family. A sob escaped his chapped lips. His shoulders were shaking with the pain. His mom’s screams, the roaring echo of the fire, and his father’s last words tearing at his ear drums. He started pulling at his ears cries openly erupting from his throat now when suddenly there were large hands on his hands pulling them from his ears.  
“Are you okay?” Sam’s hazel eyes were staring with worry. The scene reminded Dean of something he couldn’t put his finger on.  
“I …. Just.. Sammy.” He openly cried in front of his baby brother and dropped his head back into his hands.  
“It’s okay, Dean.” Sam mumbled, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the broken man.  
“I’m so worthless. Why did he die for me?” He whispered.  
“Because you are the goodest person I know. “  
Dean looked up at his brother who was smiling.  
“Goodest?” Dean gave Sam a look.  
“Wellest?” Sam offered innocently.  
“Best.” They mumbled together, laughter erupting from their lungs.  
When the laughter finally settled down, Sam handed Dean a container. “ I got you some pie.” Dean smiled and forgot the thoughts for now.

1+

Sam was dead.  
Thrown into the cage and burning in hell. And Dean knew for a fact that he didn’t want to live anymore. Three deaths played out in front of him on a never ending circuit. The three people he should have been able to save, his family, they were all dead now. There were screams echoing in the room as he grabbed his gun. He couldn’t hear anything over the cries, so he didn’t notice when Cas showed up. Dean was perched on the edge of the bed with his back to Cas, hand shaking with a gun placed against his head, his whole body torn with sobs.  
“Dean.” Cas’s voice was panicked as he ran to the hunters side ripping the weapon out of his hands.  
“What are you doing?” Dean growled “Let. Me. Die. I see them Cas. They’re all I see anymore. Over and over and over, their deaths are all I see.” Dean shook, unable to look at his angel. “It’s my fault. I’m worthless, Cas. I should have been able to protect at least him. I should have saved him.”  
“Dean, you are worthy of an angel’s love,” Cas muttered, but Dean wasn't listening. He just kept mumbling on and on about how this was his fault, He couldn’t do anything right.  
And then there were lips on Dean’s, pushing him back so he was lying down on the bed with Cas’s warm body flush against his own. Cas had never imagined their first kiss being anything like this, but it felt good and right. And then Dean was kissing back hungrily, prying Cas’s mouth open and slipping his tongue inside. Ripping off Cas’s jacket and shirt, he then pulled off his own quickly as the need to be close to someone tore through him. Their pants were soon on the ground, and Dean was now on top of Cas grinding their hips together as Cas moaned, accepting the kiss and touch gratefully. And as Dean entered his angel with Cas’s fingers gripping at his back, Deans hands resting on Cas’s hips...  
Dean forgot all about the thoughts,  
Forgot about the world,  
Even forgot his own name  
The only thing he could think of was Cas.

And from then on, whenever the thoughts came back, Dean’s mind would bring him back to that motel room, their first time playing out slowly in his head. The bad thoughts were erased and replaced with this new, wonderful one and everything was okay again.  
Well, as okay as it can get if your last name is Winchester.


End file.
